


Tears of the Fallen

by Kennybadger



Series: Tears Of the Fallen [1]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennybadger/pseuds/Kennybadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU, based on Tales from the Borderlands. The main character is original character, this will be a fairly long story. So I hope you enjoy the ride with me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears of the Fallen

I stared at the TV on my way back from the bondsmen; the CEO of the Atlas corporation was on. He was going over a new housing development project, to help the poorer places in this city. A noble cause, but the man seemed to be a fool. This town wasn't worth saving from itself—crime was rampant, and the rich men like him were oblivious to it all. I'd discovered that a long time ago, back when I walked a beat for this city. You could only see the brutality for so long before you just lost any hope for humanity. I'd been a terrible cop anyway; beat a man who killed his son—just couldn't stay objective, I suppose. The bastard was half dead before my partner stopped me.

 

Now, I'm not under the red tape and politics of all that shit; just another independent investigator in a fucked-up city. I pushed my way through the crowded street, my large frame and glare clearing a path through the chaos of rush hour. I was close to my office, and the crowd seemed to be hell bent to avoid it—the closer I got, the more the traffic thinned. The part of town it was in seemed appropriate for me; worn down, decaying. The brick-and-mortar building housed a sad handful of offices—mine, an accountant’s, a shitty lawyer’s. Luckily for me, they were on a different floor, so I didn't have to talk to them.

 

Three paralegals were outside the building, smoking and gossiping about the latest office scandals. One of them saw me, and smiled. "How’s your day been, Mason?” she asked with a polite smile. “Need me to take your cigarettes again?”

"Two jobs finished and paid for,” I answered, handing her my cigarettes with a wink. “About as good as it gets.” The smell of smoke still lingered on me as I entered the building, but I could blame it on the paralegals easily enough if Ethel asked. She’d have my head if she knew the truth. Hiring her as my secretary hadn’t dulled her motherly instincts in the slightest.

 

I ascended the stairs to the floor my office was on; even in the hall you could hear typing from the rooms nearby. I pushed open the heavy door, glancing around the sparsely-furnished office. Ethel, a small, white-haired, elderly woman of sixty, was at her desk, sitting in the only comfortable chair in the room. I took a manila envelope out of my pocket and tossed it on the table."Ethel, could you deposit the money into the accounts?"

 

"Of course."

 

"And are all the bills caught up?" I already knew the answer—Ethel had never missed a bill payment in her life—but I asked anyway. It was a force of habit.

She didn’t answer, only handed me a few pieces of paper with an expression that told me I should really stop asking. "You have three clients wanting you for jobs—I sent the contracts over, and there is a woman who made an appointment with you today. She should be here soon." 

"Did she tell you what the job was?" Ethel shook her head, and I continued on into my office, leaving the door ajar. I went though the job offers I had been sent; two were routine legwork that I could do in a day. The third would be a week’s worth of work—which meant more money for both of us.

"Mr. Phillips, she is here to see you," Ethel called from the other room.

"Send her in." There was a brief, muffled conversation from beyond the door before it swung open a moment later. The sight of the woman that came in was close to pure perfection, and I rose from my chair a little more quickly than I would have liked. Her hair was light brown with a single lock dyed red. She wore a form-fitting dress that deliberately showed every curve of her body. Her steely eyes were a radiant shade of green. A guy could fall in love with a woman like her.

 

"Mason Phillips, Miss..." I held out my hand. She looked me over before taking it. Her hand was rough; it didn’t fit a high society woman like her. She had worked for a living at one point—legal or otherwise. In this town you could never know.

"Missus, actually,” she finally answered. “I'm Fiona Morgan, Mr. Phillips, and I would like to hire you." Her voice was soft, hypnotic. I could have listened to it for hours.

 

"Of course, Mrs. Morgan, take a seat.” I motioned toward one of the huge wooden chairs in front of my desk. "And please, call me Mason." She sat down, crossing her long, tan legs, and I found myself mesmerized by the them. My eyes wandered from her heels to the bottom of her dress, and must have lingered too long, because I saw her smile lightly at me.

 

"Mr. Phillips—I mean...Mason, I need you to investigate my husband."

 

A common enough job, cheating husbands paid the bills more often than anything else, but any man cheating on her should be taken somewhere and beat to death. "Cheating, I take it, ma'am?"

 

She started laughing. "Oh, God no! Mr. Mason, my husband wouldn't ever cheat on me. He couldn't even cheat at a game of checkers."

 

This shocked me more than I cared to admit. "Then what do you need him to be investigated for?"

 

"Well, I would like you to investigate his company, the Atlas corporation. You will be well-compensated beyond your normal rate. This job will require all of your time and I'll accept nothing less." Her eyes hadn’t lost that steely edge I’d seen when she’d walked in.

 

I could play this game. Beautiful or not, I wasn’t just going to let her walk all over me. If she wanted to play tough, I would too. "Sure thing, but it is going to be triple my rate—plus expenses—since I won’t be able to work any other jobs." Her face lost its confidence, but only for a second before she regained her composure. It was one second too long, though; she had shown weakness and the advantage was mine.

 

"That's absurd. Why would I pay these ridiculous rates?” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Normal rates plus expenses and a bonus at the end."

 

She was pretty much right, any other private dick would have jumped at this job, but there was something that didn’t sit right with me about all this. "Two and a half plus expenses; bonus on a completed job. Final offer, because I will get the job done and…” I leaned forward, staring her straight in the face. “...you seem pretty damn desperate." It was mostly a shot in the dark. Worst case, I got stuck with time and a half plus expenses.

 

"Double time plus expenses; bonus on a completed job. That is the best I will do."

 

I studied her face. Her expression gave nothing away this time, and her voice lost that seductive melody. She was dead serious. I ignored that warning in the back of my mind; this was more than I’d expected to get, anyway. "Done, then. I'll have Ethel draw up the contract, and I'll start. Stay here for a moment.” I quickly wrote down what was needed and walked out to hand Ethel the information for the contract before returning to my chair.”What else is there to this job? What am I supposed to be looking for?"

 

"I'm worried that my husband's executive staff may be trying to push him out. They already know my people, so I'm going to get you in as a bodyguard for my husband—that will be a cover for you, to give you enough proximity to him to find anything out. I should go ahead and warn you this job may last for a bit, just stick close to him. Report anything you find to me immediately.” She handed me a card.

 

I simply placed it on the desk, then took out my wallet and handed her mine. The job itself seemed simple enough, but there was still that lingering feeling that didn’t sit right with me. If the money wasn’t as good as it was, she could shove this job up her ass. “Sure thing. Who will I report to in the morning?”

 

“My husband, Rhys Morgan.” Her voice was matter-of-fact.

 

“Is he aware of this investigation?”

 

“No, he won’t be. This job is on my business accounts; only one other person and I know about it. If you find yourself in trouble or are unable to contact me, her number is also on that card. I will warn you, she is a bit intimidating to most people.”

 

That was an odd thing to add, but the uncomfortable feeling was slowly fading. I could only hope it was a good sign, or I was beginning to get better at ignoring my instincts. I could only pray it was the former. “I don’t mean to tell you your business, but who is she and can she be trusted?”

 

“Her name is Athena, she is my...personal assistant.” There was a slight pause in her voice as she said this. “She is quite trustworthy and she’s been with me for a long time.”

 

I didn’t press the issue, even though I had a sneaking suspicion that this “Athena” was more of a bodyguard than a personal assistant. “Fine then, you're the boss once the contract is signed. Ethel should be done with it by now. Please sign it before you leave. Unless there is anything else, we should be done.” I looked at the clock. It was too late to try and knock out one of the quicker jobs; I would have to outsource them. The other one...I would need to call back and decline. I sat for a moment before I realized she was still there. She had that lovely smile back on her face and her eyes were a bit softer, but still had that firmness to them.

 

“Mason, all that is left is my thanks. I appreciate your time.” Her voice seemed relaxed for the first time since she had arrived.

 

“You’re quite welcome, Mrs. Morgan. I promise you, if there is anything going on, I’ll find out. You don’t need to worry about a thing.” I sat back in my desk, looking at her business card as she left the office. Morgan Security Firm. I shook my head, laughing quietly. That woman was the polar opposite of everything I’d expected her to be, and I knew that it would give me hell, trying to figure her out.

 

The next morning, I woke up, showered, shaved, fixed my hair, and put on my best black suit and hat. For once, I looked like a professional instead of a strongarm thug—it was a nice change. After a quick breakfast of ham, eggs, and coffee, I headed out, picking up the paper on the way. I flagged down the first cab that passed. The driver didn’t speak to me on the way to the Atlas headquarters, so I skimmed through the paper looking for any insight into this Rhys. Disappointingly, I found nothing but a few fluff pieces about the new housing development. Would’ve figured a guy that high up would have some dirt under his nails. He couldn’t have been the image of hope the reporters made him out to be—the world doesn’t work like that. I flipped the cab driver some cash as he pulled up to the main entrance. The building was impressive; covered in windows and adorned with marble pillars.

 

I walked in to find a pretty young woman sitting at a desk chatting with some suit. One look at me and he ran off. “Hello, my name is Mason Phillips. I was supposed to report to Mr. Morgan. Did he leave word here for you?”

 

“No, sir, he didn’t—but that isn’t uncommon. Mr. Morgan has an open-door policy for all Atlas employees. No matter how busy he is, he’ll take time to work out any problems that may arise. I’ll call him and find out what he wants you to do.” She pushed a few buttons on the phone. “Mr. Morgan, there is a Mr. Phillips here to see you about starting his job? ...Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone and gave me a smile. ”He is on his way down right now and told me to have you wait here for him.”

 

She started writing something down, so I walked over to lean on a nearby pillar. I didn’t wait long, as a tall thin man in a very expensive suit walked up to the desk less than ten minutes later. He looked incompetent, but kind—Morgan must not have been able to come get me himself and sent an assistant. He talked to the girl at the desk for a moment, rubbing his hand through his brown hair. I simply watched him, not really listening to him, but if I didn’t know any better I would have sworn he was apologizing. The girl at the desk smiled and laughed at him, then pointed over to me. He turned to face me with a big grin.

 

“Mr. Phillips, I’m Rhys,” he began, walking toward me. “My wife told me she hired you to protect me. To be honest, I think she worries a bit too much, but I just can’t say no to her.”

 

I took his hand when he offered it. “Mr. Morgan, I’m gl—”

 

“No, please call me Rhys, no need to be so formal. We’re going to have to be together for a while, so better to be friends rather than boss and employee, no?” He still had that stupid grin on his face. I wanted to punch it off.

 

“Okay, Rhys whatever you want. Where do we start?”

 

“I figure I could start with breakfast. My treat, of course. Follow me.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away.

 

I had no other choice but to follow him. This moron was going to be my only company for God knew how long...but at least he was buying. That counted for something.

 

[END OF CHAPTER 1]


End file.
